


Siege By Seagulls

by NorthwesternInsanity



Series: Hotel Disasters One-Shots [2]
Category: Dokken, Music RPF
Genre: Bad Pun, Gen, Humor, bird in the house, crackfic, it's always gotta be something, pun, seagulls - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwesternInsanity/pseuds/NorthwesternInsanity
Summary: Mick falls asleep after a bad night traveling to Hawaii for a performance with the door to the hotel balcony open and wakes up to a surprise he'd have never expected in a million years -a flock of seagulls rampaging his room! Unadulterated humor crackfic based on a true story





	Siege By Seagulls

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Mick Brown's story in the T&N episode of That Metal Show about the time his hotel room got attacked by seagulls. And yes, there was a pun on a song in there, and that was bad. Really bad. But it was too perfect not to use. I'm not sorry!

Shaking his head like a dog shaking off water following a yawn that threatened to split it open, Mick reached into the airport van's back storage area and pulled out his suitcase, dropping it on the luggage trolley the bellhop had brought down next to Don's bag. Deciding that they could get themselves to their rooms on their own once they were loaded up, Mick, Don, George, and Jeff began heading away from the van at a meek and defeated pace.

They were finally in the hotel parking lot after a night flight into Hawaii for a performance tomorrow night. A hotel so close to the seaside that the water was visible from the parking lot.

As luck would have it; however, everything was starting off far from paradise.

They'd booked an afternoon flight in, and all gotten up early to be at the airport around noon so that they could make that flight yesterday. Only to have it "delayed due to mechanical problems" and sit at the gate for two hours while the terminal announcers kept going back and forth with the delay time of the flight. _Expected delay for an hour. Now expected delay for two hours. Now expected delay for an hour and forty-five minutes. Now expected delay for two hours and..._

Two hours of agonizing announcements on the intercom every five minutes, only to have the flight outright cancelled. Leaving them even less time to arrange with management getting onto another flight going the same way. They couldn't manage to secure the evening one, so they ended up sitting in the airport after getting checked in from 2:00 o'clock in the afternoon to 2:00 o'clock on the morning before finally getting on a plane and being too fed up with the situation to relax and fall asleep onboard. Now they had finally arrived at 10:00 in the morning, and were all prepared to crawl into bed and sleep their downtime day away.

"Man, I just want to sleep," Mick moaned.

George snorted loudly before descending into another coughing fit. "Ugh, tell me about it."

He was on the third day of some weird -and very inopportunely timed -bug that had given him significant stomach upset and coughing. The symptoms were manageable by now, and the worst of it had been pretty short lived. However, George had figured out on the road the rule with stomach bugs was three days before it was safe to assume it was no longer contagious. And regardless of whether it was mild or severe, there really was nothing more concerning for them with how easy it was to get dehydrated onstage when they could keep things down. So he already wasn't too happy with traveling today, or that they'd be performing in high temperatures tomorrow. The real hope across all of them was that nobody else would end up catching it before he was truly no longer contagious, and that he wouldn't end up passing out onstage at the end of a set and being taken to the emergency room to get hooked to an IV _again._

Now, as he came off the coughing fit, a very tired, droopy-eyed Jeff Pilson came up next to him, affectionately putting his hand up over his shoulder and leaning his head in. Looking pained to do it, George ducked down and pushed Jeff off, and it was all the more a sad sight when Jeff looked confused and tried to approach him again, simply being too tired to understand why.

"Jeff, I've already told you to please _keep back_ away from me," warned George, holding out his arm in front of him and blocking Jeff from getting any closer. "I don't want to give you what I've got. The last thing we want is this crap making the rounds; it happens enough with us already."

"You three already know what I said back in the airport," Don murmured darkly. "I'll see you all tomorrow." He walked ahead of them, keeping his head ducked with his hat brim pulled so far down that looking at him straight on, his face was only visible from the tip of his nose down. Stress from this complicated stage of travel, getting everything squared away for the rest of the tour with management, and a migraine that had come on in the last hour of the flight in were all justifications for being in a world class mood that not even George would challenge, because he felt the same way.

Seeing the tension building, Mick quickened his pace toward the hotel and didn't say a word. He didn't like it when bad mood was in the air when he did have the energy to deal with it, let alone now when he did it. At least he had a complete excuse to get away from it with George being sick and Don wanting to be alone.

It was a painful twenty minutes before they could get checked in, and another good ten before they could snag elevators, a five minute struggle for Mick when his bags and Don's bags tumbled off the luggage trolley they'd opted to share when the wheel got caught on the lip of the elevator door and they had to push it out and then drag their bags out behind it. Then Mick got his bags inside his room, Don got his bags in his room across the hall, and Mick didn't have the heart to tell Don to take it back downstairs when he was clearly in pain.

It was almost another ten minutes by the time Mick got back from putting it away, finally stepped in his room, and fell back against the door to shut it in exhaustion.

He stayed there for a solid minute, simply gathering his wits and bearings before heaving a hard sigh and walking through the room to survey what was in it. 

It was narrow, but had decent space. Past the bed, there was an area with a sofa and chairs around a TV equipped with an antenna, so there was room for hanging out and partying once they all recovered from the wear of travel.

There was a glass sliding door rather than a window too. Mick went over and opened it up to survey the balcony, which was almost half the size of the suite area. Even more space. That was nice too. There was the sound of waves in the distance, and a warm breeze coming in too that was at just the right temperature he liked, and a massive yawn caught him, nearly rendering him dizzy.

Stumbling to the bed, Mick finally allowed himself to crash and forget about all the struggles of the past twenty four hours. It hardly took five seconds before he was in another world.

It was some noise -something high pitched, then a rustling and a clatter of something plastic that woke Mick up. Slowly cracking his eyelids, he looked at the clock on the nightstand to see that it had only been five hours since he'd hit the bed.

 _Oh, come on,_ he groaned, at least feeling validated in still being tired. He rolled off of his stomach and onto his side to get comfortable again, and then realized the sound that woke him up was not from outside or in his imagination, but in fact in his room, and a pretty big problem.

He couldn't believe his eyes. There were seagulls all inside his room. Standing on the floor, on the table, the sofa, a couple perched up on the lamp, and one on the TV antenna stand. However, most alarming were the good number up on the kitchenette counters, digging through the food rack left there by the staff, which was going to be an extra charge to the room cost.

And, there was already food trash scattered around the floor where other birds had run around with it. Then, Mick could see the extent of the mess they'd created up on the counters and in the kitchenette. Not good. Unless if he wanted to pay a fortune in damages and housekeeping, he needed to get them out of there right now.

By the first thing that came to his mind, Mick cupped his hands around his mouth and boomed:

**"HEY!"**

He pointed to the door as he did, and as his voice rang out and his arm shot up by his side, the room burst into motion with loud fluttering and flapping sounds as all the birds flew up at once and swirled around the room.

UH-OH! That hadn't been a good idea. He'd succeeded in scaring the seagulls, but he hadn't thought about out the door not necessarily being the first place they'd go even if they in fact wanted out. And with the narrow, long configuration of the hotel room, there were many other places a good number of them ended up going besides the door, few of which were even a clear pathway.

Now he had at least twenty seagulls flying in all directions around his room. Without enough space to get away from furniture, the walls, and each other. Crashing into the furniture and walls and each other. Knocking things over. Dropping feathers as they caught each other. And unfortunately, dropping crap too.

Mick winced as a mirror fell off the wall and shattered, only hoping that wasn't an indication of how the upcoming leg of the tour was going to be. Though, he had a feeling already that it was going to be rough before the mirror broke, and he wasn't planning on blaming whatever might happen on a mirror getting knocked down from the wall.

Then a screech made him flinch, and he had a bird buzz low over his head, nearly catching his fluffy hair in its claws. Another bird smacked into Mick's arm as he reached up and slapped away the one going over his head. It turned around and dive-bombed the lamp on the nightstand, knocking it to the floor with a crunch of porcelain that had been the base, just as Mick yanked the extra blanket off his bed and threw it over his head for protection.

_Of all the ways I could die, I'm gonna get killed in an attack from a flock of seagulls in a hotel room!_

After dodging another seagull as he tried to move across the room to direct traffic, Mick tripped over a chair and went down on the floor, tangled up and unable to get back to his feet without uncovering so that he was vulnerable, so he huddled up and watched in horror the carnage, the feathers, and literal shitstorm from the floor.

There went his suitcase. And there went the lamp. And the sofa. And the nightstand. It was already far too late to worry about the floor, and all things considered, it was the least worrisome thing to get it.

"Oh, no you don't!" Mick shouted.

Too late. He'd be sleeping without a pillow until he could call for housekeeping. And he wouldn't be able to call housekeeping without it costing a fortune before he cleaned some of the mess. There were white and grey feathers on every surface of the room. How was he supposed to explain _this?!_

It was a two minute period of hell that felt so much longer that Mick was on the floor before enough seagulls had gotten out of the room for him to dare pick himself up. A few of the ones that had gotten beaten up were limping on the floor over the threshold of the balcony.

Mick grabbed his shoes, knowing there was broken glass in some areas of the carpet, and walked about the room. He carried the blanket to use as a shield if he needed it and surveyed the damage.

Just as he feared, he'd have some massive cleanup to do on his own before he could even call for help.

Then he went into the bathroom and found half the toilet paper pulled off the roll on shreds and the shower curtains on the floor in a heap with the rod pulled down to the floor.

With a sigh, Mick cautiously picked up the curtains, only to find two more birds tangled up in them, but so disoriented and roughed up that they just walked unsteadily toward the bathroom door and through the room.

"Go!" ordered Mick. "No, go!" He shoved the tip of his foot into the carpet to scuff it and startle them enough to keep them waddling toward the balcony door each time they turned the wrong way.

"Get!"

Once they were out, he shut the door to the balcony, and on the back, he saw a warning sticker with a cartoon seagull wearing a sleeping mask.

_This hotel is not responsible for items stolen or damaged by birds._

"Oh, well thanks for telling me now," Mick grumbled. He hoped that would at least score him some understanding from housekeeping as to what had happened as he headed back to the bathroom, deciding that he'd at least get the curtain off the floor before returning to bed. 

First, he picked up the rod, made sure that all the grommets in the curtain were on the rod, and attempted to push it back up. It was a cheap fixture, and rather than having separate metal ends screwed into the wall that the rod mounted into, it had rubber tips that would keep it wedged by friction between the walls of the shower, as long as it was level.

Mick realized as he was trying to re-situate the curtains themselves and pick feathers out of them that he hadn't gotten it on level, and it slipped alarmingly on one side so that the rod was at an angle, and not parallel to the floor.

 _Aw, great!_ Mick made an attempt to push it up, only to see it slide down on the other side.

"Stupid, stupid...!" he growled. He was too tired for this bird shit -both the figurative and literal bird shit. The curtain didn't need to add to it. Trying to get it level and slide the curtain back up to the appropriate height, Mick wondered if things could get any crazier.

Just as he did, the shower rod slipped on the other side and came crashing back down against Mick's legs, hitting exactly on the cap of his right knee and jarring the nerve endings there.

"Aggh!" Mick yelped, snatching his knee up to grab at it, and promptly jamming his toes against the side of the toilet as he brought up his foot too fast without checking that it had a clear path. "Fuck this piece of shit -ooh! Ow!"

He backed up to the wall, leaned against it, and held his foot.

"Ohhh, stupid toilet!" he grumbled under his breath, immediately realizing just how silly that sounded and that he'd probably be laughing if he weren't so tired and bewildered by the pure insanity that had just gone down around him.

With a sigh, he hooked the curtain back on the rod (half of it had slid back off the end when it went down) and shoved it back up against the wall. This time, he had it parallel on both sides, so the rubber ends got wedged up between the shower walls evenly and held tight there without slipping from unequally distributed pressure. It still looked pathetic -there were feathers dropping from the curtain, and a few places the curtain had been targeted -but at least it was up. Mick was too tired to care about the rest of it until later. Especially after getting attacked by the curtain after the birds!

Pulling back the bedspread -which was messy, and pulling the clean flat sheet up over the portion of the bed that had been left exposed, Mick flopped down, curled up, and tried to go back to sleep. 

However, his portable, battery powered radio had gotten switched on in the commotion, and now back on the nightstand and audible again in the quiet, was playing a particular song that was keeping Mick from falling back asleep.

If Mick had had opinions about said song prior to this incident, he couldn't recall them being significantly negative or positive -but at this particular moment, it just felt like he was being made fun of, and he didn't like it a bit.

"That's it, now you've got it coming to you!" Mick picked up the miniature radio and threw it across the room, hard.

_And I ran, I ran so far away; I couldn't get a-_

It hit the wall and shattered in what seemed like slow motion, spitting some static and warped tones as it busted apart before going permanently silent.

"Good!"

With that, Mick settled back down and passed back out for more much needed sleep. He was relieved to wake up hours later to not find his room under siege by dog-sized sea fowl, but then it occurred to him that he still had to clean up a bunch of broken glass, knocked over furniture, feathers, and crap. And the pieces of the radio he'd smashed.

"Oh, crap," he sighed.

Making sure he hadn't kicked off his shoes in his sleep, Mick got down from the bed and started by trying to kick the pieces of broken glass into piles so that it was possible to walk a path in the room without crunching over it. Hopefully, the little underpowered hand vacuum in the closet could pick up whatever was too small to pick up with his hands.

In about two hours, he'd be heading out into town. He already knew George would be spending the evening in to try and rest up and recover, and to try and prevent passing whatever he had around like they had with so many other bugs. Don had made it clear to everyone earlier that he was stressed out and wanted to be left _alone_ for the night, period. 

With that, Mick was considering inviting Jeff along with him so he could still hang out with somebody, and so that Jeff wouldn't be lonely and bored by the end of the night. Looking about the carnage in the room and how much left he had to deal with, he figured that maybe he'd get Jeff now and see if he could get some help.

So he padded down the hall to Jeff's room and knocked on the door. He didn't even count to five before the door opened.

"Hey, Mick! Are we hanging out or something?" asked Jeff, bouncing on his toes like he was already jittery and hyper.

"Yeah, we can do that. I'm going out into town in a couple of hours, and I was gonna invite you to come along. You up for it?"

"Of course!"

Jeff looked like he'd woken up from a long nap, and done a few hits of coke while still sleep deprived. His eyes were puffy underneath, and they looked watery with big pupils so that even when he smiled, he looked like he was about to pass out in a daze rather than looking truly happy. Mick, however, planned to look the same way by the end of the evening if things kept going the way that they were, so he went along with it anyway.

"Also," Mick warned, holding up a finger, "I kind of had a situation in my room -Jeff, would you be okay if I asked you for some help?"

"Oh, no problem." Jeff jumped back inside to grab his room key and hopped out in the hall, closing the door behind him before Mick could say anything further.

They walked down the hall.

"Look, you gotta see this," said Mick, unlocking his room and opening the door. "You're not gonna fuckin' believe it. Just try and guess what happened."

Jeff looked around the room. Mick expected him to be shocked, search around the room, and then ask what happened. Instead, Jeff just stared straight ahead, turned around, and looked at Mick with the most crestfallen look he'd ever seen.

"Jeff, what is it?" asked Mick.

Jeff looked back on the room in shambles of overturned furniture and broken glass, then turned to Mick again, still looking betrayed.

_"You had a party and you didn't even invite me?"_


End file.
